Friday, May 30, 2014

When I took this job, almost a year ago, it was scary and exciting and it was also weird. It was weird to be coming back to my hometown. All of growing up feels like a process separating yourself from where you're from and then I go and take a job -- a good job, a job that has given me more experience than I think I even wanted -- right back where I started.

And now I am buying a condo that's just a few miles from where I work and just a few miles from my high school and where I grew up and everything that I've always known and it feels right, I know it's a good choice, but it also feels weird.

Like maybe I'm not as grown up as I pretend to be.

I'm okay with all of it. These are choices that I've made and they are choices that I am happy with. In all of my dreams and at all of my expensive schools, I just never quite pictured that I would be here. Back at home.

But, for as weird as it sometimes feels, there are moments when it also feels so incredibly right that I can't quite fathom how I got so lucky. Like last week, when my grandma stopped by the library to bring me peanut butter cookies. Like last Friday, when I met my mom for lunch because she had a free hour and I had a free hour. Like last night.

Yesterday, toward the end of the workday, Lucy texted me. She's bringing the boys to the beach. Would I like to join them?

I was in a dress and heels. I had no change of clothes.

Absolutely I would like to join them.

We got pizza at the restaurant that's right on the water. We were seated on the deck and Baby A climbed all over me to look out onto the lake. Auntie Pie! Auntie Pie! Ducks! Geese! Boat! Fish! Rocks!

When we were finished with dinner, we walked over to the beach. The boys got filthy and wet and happy. It was my job to fish Baby A's rocks out of the water after he threw them in. "More'gain!" he yells. (That's more and again, of course.) We dug a few holes and got sand between our toes and Lucy filled me in on her latest family drama and I filled her in on mine.

I carried Baby A back to Lucy's car (36 pounds. Ooof!) and got my work dress drenched and dirty in the process and it is going to have to go to the dry cleaner and I could not care less.

Hi. I'm A.

Born, raised, educated in the Midwest, I am such a Midwesterner. So Midwestern, if you will.

I am: a blogger of 8+ years, forever searching for my next athletic challenge, hopelessly overscheduled and always, always eating.

I started So Midwestern right after I graduated from college, hoping to chronicle my transition to adulthood. Graduate school, four half marathons, two new nephews, three apartments, a trip to Africa, a sprinkle of heartbreak, dozens of unfinished knitting projects, four turns as a bridesmaid, 8,913 job applications and two full-time positions later: I’m fairly convinced that the day when I feel like a legitimate, full-fledged grownup will never come. So I’ll just keep on blogging.

I write about a little bit of everything and a lot of nothing. Toss my ramblings with a few pictures, a touch of swearing and an endless appreciation for the beauty that is David Beckham and you have So Midwestern. Welcome.